Wicked Games
by riddlewhorecrux
Summary: A year after the end of the war, Harry finds something that will turn his life upside down. His discovery is shocking, but the things it brings changes everything he knew until now.
1. Chapter 1

One would say that after the end of the war, Harry Potter's life would be perfect. And by all means, it really should be. Everything was perfect. Too perfect. Voldemort was finally gone, things had changed for better, and still, Harry wasn't happy.

He was somehow empty, even if he hadn't a single reason to be. The evenings spent at the Weasley's were not an often as before, the same thing also going for his friendship with Ron and Hermione. They were a couple now, and he was expected to come to terms with Ginny. Harry didn't want to. He cared about her, some time ago, but now he couldn't see Ginny more than a friend or a sister. He had long ago moved to Grimmauld Place with only Kreacher as a company. The house elf was nice enough, and the best thing, he didn't care about what Harry was actually doing when he didn't leaved his chamber for days.

Days were passing slowly, and more often than he wanted to admit, Harry found himself in Black Family library, reading. He was just bored, and the books were simply fascinating. He began, in some extend, to understand Voldemort's obsession with The Dark Arts. He began to somehow respect the man, after all, to understand such a powerful piece of magic is certainly not easy.

Regulus room was more interesting that Harry thought. Some old books were spread on the half-made bed. He supposed that when Sirius's brother still lived, the room was clean and things were put in order, he was a Slytherin, after all. Maybe Snape was the one who made the whole mess, when he took the other half of Lily's letter. However, one thing immediately got his attention. On the wooden desk, next to a very old exemplar of the Daily Prophet with a big picture of The Dark Mark on the front page, it was a pile of dirty photos.

"Merlin's beard!"

How didn't he notice the damn photo until now? He lived in this house for more than five months. From the desk, the face of Tom Marvolo Riddle was staring back at him with an arrogant expression on his attractive face. He wasn't a teenager anymore, at least that was what Harry thought. Riddle was probably in his late 20's. He wasn't the boy Harry saw in the diary, but he certainly wasn't the man who came at Hogwarts to ask for the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. From what Harry could see, he was at a party of some sorts at someone's house. Next to him were four boys he did not know, but the one with blonde platinum hair, couldn't be anyone but a Malfoy. Perhaps Draco's grandfather? He wasn't sure.

It was truly ridiculous. Dumbledore himself had been in this house for the Order meetings so many times before. Altrought, Harry wasn't that surprised. If the man hadn't noticed the horcrux who was in plain sight, what were the chances he could see an old dusty photo. He shook his head. It wasn't like it made any real difference. Harry already knew what Riddle looked like, and after all, Voldemort was dead. He clenghted his fingers around the edges of the photo. Regulus probably found it when he started looking into Riddle's past. He had luck, after all he founded about the horcruxes, hadn't he? Maybe something was wrong with him, but Harry founded the entire situation very funny. It's some twisted way, it really was.

"Master Harry, dinner is ready."

Harry turned around, finding Kreacher looking at him with an odd expression on his ugly face. He nodded his head.

"I'm coming downstairs in a minute."

Kreacher still didn't move from his spot next to the door frame. Harry was getting annoyed.

"Is there anything else you wanted?"

The elf slowly blinked.

"Master Harry is in the Master Regulus room. Master is-"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Kreacher, I'm aware of where I am."

It wasn't entirely surprising that the elf was very emotional every time Sirius's brother was mentioned. Seeing Harry in his room, must've been a real shook to him. He was sure that Kreacher knew about Regulus quest for the horcrux, even if he didn't actually know what the said object truly was. Maybe...maybe he knew something regarding to the photo. Harry stopped. What the hell was wrong with him? Voldemort was dead. Dead. It didn't matter what the man had done when he was young. But still...he was so bored and a distraction was more than welcomed. Harry had already watched the memories Dumbledore had, regarding Riddle. He knew every move, every face, every look and every word Riddle did and said. He learned his behavior, like an actor would do while studying his character. Harry was thrilled about the prospect of learning more about Riddle past. If there was of chance of Kreacher knowing something important, he definitely wasn't going to waste the opportunity.

"Kreacher, you assisted young Master Regulus in the search of the golden locket, didn't you?"

He watched as the elf eyes become bigger, if this was even possible.

"Yes, Kreacher assisted young Master Regulus in everything he needed. Kreacher helped him with the strange shining object. Kreacher ought to destroy the evil thing but he couldn't, he couldn't..."

Kreacher was sobbing, but Harry didn't have the patience to wait for him to calm down. He needed answers and he needed them right now.

"I need you to tell me everything you know about this photo." He held it in front of Kreacher, hoping for some kind of reaction, but the elf just stared at it. "Do you know where was taken or...who is in this picture?"

Harry was genuinely curious. Did the house-elf knew that Tom Riddle was in fact Voldemort or even who Tom Riddle was? Maybe he has gotten too excited for nothing, maybe...

"The Dark Lord."

Harry slowly blinked. He knew. Kreacher knew.

"How do you know?"

The elf was now looking at his dirty feet.

"I've asked you a question. I'd really like you to respond it."

He spoke the words in the same tone Riddle asked Slughorn about the horcruxes. Calm but confident. just enough for him to get what he wanted. The result came almost immediately.

"Kreacher knows because Kreacher was the one who founded the photo, all those years ago. He took it from Miss Bella room. Kreacher was terribly sorry but Master Regulus really wanted it..."

It all made sense now. Of course Bellatrix had at least one photo of Voldemort, she had been in love with him nearly all her life. But from where did she had the photo?

"But from where did she had it? Or, at least, could you tell me where these people from the photo are?"

Harry was thrilled... He was so close to find out...

"Miss Bella had the photo from her mother, Kreacher is sure of that."

The elf was looking very intently at the photo in Harry's hand. He seemed to be having an internal argument with himself if the struggle on his face was anything to go by.

"The people in the photo were at the Black family country house, outside London. It's a quiet place where muggles don't have access. No one's been there for many years. Kreacher is sure the house is in ruin..."

Harry stopped listening.

"The address. Give me the address."

Kreacher looked Harry in the eyes with a very strange expression. Was it fear? Pity? Harry didn't particularly know or care. He finally had a distraction from the boring life he had now and whatever Kreacher had, it wasn't his problem. This thought was on his mind as he got the said house address and Disappeared on the spot.

Across from him, Kreacher asked himself if he was going to see his master again.

xxx

Kreacher hadn't been kidding. From the outside the big mannor was a mess but still, Harry could see the expensive propriety of the Black's behind the ruins. Harry could only wonder what the house's insides look like. Probably very, very dirty. He bit his lips as he glanced at the old manor. A small part of him whispered that this was an extremely bad idea, but, as usual, he ignored it. If he was here, he could at least enter the house for a short time.

Harry climbed up the quite a few stairs until he was standing face to face with the main door. A wave of anxiety came rushing over him and he got his wand out of his trouser pocket. Harry cracked the door wide open and stepped inside. It was completely dark. Not even at a little bit of light from outside was present in the house. Harry wasn't afraid of the dark but right now he felt his insides clutch as the feeling that he wasn't alone in the dark. He quickly cast a Lumos and he lifted his wand to illuminate the place.

Harry blinked, adjusting his eyes with the new source of light. He was standing in a large lobby, the kind where people at parties walk right into, leading them in the main hall. As he walked past it, he thought he saw some rats on the floor but he couldn't be sure and to be honest he preferred not to think about it. The whole business with Wormtail left him with quite a hate for rats.

The main hall was even more dirty that the lobby, if that was even possible. The large windows we're completely covered with black curtains but Harry wasn't paying them any mind. He was looking at the staircase in front of him. The same staircase at the bottom of which Tom Marvolo Riddle once stood. Now that he was here, he suddenly felt like a fool. What the hell was he expected to find here? A new collection of memories about Riddle, wrapped nicely for him to take? It was ridiculous. He made two turn around, but then he heard it. Steps, actually steps. It was clear that someone was behind him. Had he been followed without his notice? The steps stopped and Harry gathered all his Gryffindor courage and turned around.

"Hello, Harry. I was quite hoping you will drop by."

Harry froze. It wasn't possible, he was hallucinating, he was...He couldn't find any reasonable reasons for what he was seeing. Right in front of him was standing Tom Riddle, as handsome as he was in the photo Harry had. He was wearing a black coat over his suit and he seemed entirely out of the picture in that gloomy hall.

"You're dead. Voldemort is dead. I-I killed you..."

Harry wasn't coherent anymore. Was he dreaming? He couldn't be, because he hadn't had any kind of strange dreams since Voldemort death. Then again, maybe Voldemort was still alive. Harry gripped his wand a little tighter. Riddle's black eyes followed the action. He arched his lips into a smirk and in his hands still wasn't a wand. Harry wasn't sure if he was grateful or suspicious.

"Tell me, boy...Did you think I was dead?" An almost mocking expression was now on his attractive face. "Did you really think the greatest wizard of all time was going to let something as simple as death stops him?" He shook his head. "If so, I confess I'm quite disappointed in you."

Harry starred behind Riddle, across the hallway. If he could only get past him, past the house wards... He wasn't stupid. A duel with Riddle was to be avoided right now. He didn't think he could actually win. Harry decided to divert Riddle attention. All he needed was time.

"How did you know I was here?" Harry found himself quite interested to hear his answer.

Riddle took a few steps towards him but Harry raised his wand. His enemy only raised his eyebrows. He still wasn't doing anything, he was just staring at him, but Harry was scared, petrified.

"Are you scared, Potter? Tell me."

He wasn't shouting or anything but for Harry the order was clear. He didn't see any point in lying, as Riddle could read him like an open book.

"Yes, I am."

Harry expected Riddle to mock him but all he got was a pleased expression. He sighed and suddenly Riddle was approaching him, moving like a feline around its prey.

"Good Harry, very good. I confess I'm pleased with your answer. Now...back to your question. I haven't followed you." He made a small gesture with his right hand in which now was a wand."I simply waited for you here."

Harry just stared at him. He was lying, he sure was. No matter how powerful Riddle was, he couldn't actually see the future. Harry pointed his wand at Riddle face.

"You're lying."

For a second, a flash of pure anger was on his enemy face but it was gone almost immediately. Riddle smirked at Harry, now, as calm as before. It didn't matter because Harry saw that Riddle had emotions even if he acted as if he didn't. It made Harry feel as if he gained something.

"You'll soon learn that I don't lie, Potter." He was close to Harry now, making him take a few steps back but Riddle followed him. Harry was looking right into his eyes, desperate for a way out. "I'm greater than that."

Harry thought, despite himself, that Riddle was graceful in his movements, as if even his most insufficient actions were well planned. It drove Harry mad and he mentally schooled himself. He should try to find a way out now to waste time admiring Riddle. Riddle who was now looking at him with an amused expression. His enemy raised his free hand and suddenly he felt himself flying right into the wall from his right, his wand falling from his hand. He cursed.

Riddle chuckled, a sound that made Harry tremble. He was in front of him, right into his personal space. So close that Harry saw that his eyes weren't actually black, but grey.

"Such a dirty mouth you have." Riddle's eyes raked over his body expecting for Harry reaction which didn't come. He tilted his head, almost like a child. "Maybe that's why the mud-blood and the blood-traitor aren't with you anymore. Don't you agree?"

Harry snapped at him.

"What the hell do you know about my-"

Riddle was at least pleased with his reaction.

"I know everything about, Harry Potter. I know at what hour you get up in the morning, I know what you eat, I know with who do you talk and I even know when you sleep. Tell me...does it surprise you?"

"How you could possibly know all this?" He glared at Riddle. "How did you know I was going to be here? How?"

Riddle slowly lifted his right hand, and with one elegant finger traced Harry's jawline, making him shiver.

"Trust...trust is a very dangerous thing. You must be very careful who you give it to. A house elf who betrayed once is no trusty. You should know this."

"Kreacher told you." It wasn't a question. Harry saw very clearly now, the shame written on the elf's face. He knew Riddle was going to be here. What amazed Harry the most was the fact that he didn't get angry. He was just...empty."The picture, I didn't just happen to find it, am I right?"

Riddle's hand still hung suspended between them and he smiled. It was nothing like a smile should be. It wasn't warm or something like that, but cold and threatening.

"I'm not stupid Potter and I certainly don't leave my things lying around for fools like you to collect. I'm sure you thought you made a great discovery, don't you? I bet your face was priceless."

Harry shook his head.

"But why? Why do you want me here? Why didn't you just kill me in the second I walked right into this house? Why didn't you? I know you could have. You're the Dark Lord."

Riddle examined Harry intently.

"You'll find out soon enough." He slid his finger down Harry's face, tracing his lips. The young Dark Lord leaned very close to Harry and he felt his pulse speeding. "We will speak soon enough. Be a good boy and don't come here ever again. For your own good."

Then he pulled away, letting Harry moved from the wall.

"Don't go away", Harry said but Riddle turned around. "You didn't tell me how you're still alive. You can't go."

"I will do as I please", Riddle answered. "Soon you will pray I was gone. Goodbye, Harry."

He took one last glance at Harry and then he just left him in the dark.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry felt his breath finally calming as he appeared in front of Grimmauld Place and got inside. He couldn't clearly remember leaving the Black's Manor, the thought of just getting out blinding him, and it felt as if he finally could breath again. In the second he stepped into the dark familiar corridor, the dreaming state in which he was until now, abandoned him. Distantly looking at Sirius mother's portrait, Harry realized the seriousness of the  
situation. Voldemort was back, actually back. What was he supposed to do? Alert The Order? He shook his head. And tell them what? That he met the one and only, supposedly dead Voldemort and came back without even a scratch? That the The Dark Lord just let him go? Even Harry had a hard time coming to terms with the whole situation. If he still was in a sort of denial with what just happened, he could only guess what the others would say.

Who he was kidding anyway, Harry thought bitterly. He knew what the others would say, after all, he already had been in this situation once before and the consequences were familiar to him. They would call him a liar and an attention seeker, just like what happened ages ago. No, Harry wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. He was going to wait for Riddle to make a move and only then, he would act on the situation, but for now, Harry had another problem which was about to be resolved immediately.

"Kreacher!", he shouted angrily. "Kreacher!"

He heard a noise behind him and turned around, ready to harshly confront the house-elf, instead, he came face to face with a confused Hermione.

"Why are you shouting?" She looked at him with concerned eyes. "Had something happened?"

Harry stared at her; she hadn't visited him for ages. He closed his eyes and took a breath before he opened them again. No matter how much he wanted, he couldn't tell Hermione the truth. He knew he should, but deep inside him, Harry knew that Hermione wasn't going to understand his situation and plan. She never did before, so what would she now?

"Have you seen Kreacher?" he asked as calmly as he could, his mind still clouded with the events of the past hour.

She shook her head as they moved towards the kitchen and sat down on the wooden chairs. Harry noticed that the meal Kreacher prepared for him before he left was still on the table, which meant that the elf took his leave right after he left. To where, he could only guess.

"No, I arrived just a few minutes ago but nobody was home. I was preparing to leave but… Harry, are you all right? You look stressed."

Harry diverted his eyes from hers. He should have known, if anyone could notice he was hiding something, it'd be Hermione

"I'm fine, don't worry. How come you're alone?" It was a little bit strange because every time Hermione visited him, she was accompanied by Ron, Ginny or someone else.

Hermione wasn't too convinced by his answer but she allowed him to change the subject. Harry was sure she was going to bother him about this later.

"Ron was called three hours ago at the Ministry of Magic and the others are busy. I had some time alone so I decided to come and see how you've been doing."

Harry felt himself getting angry at her words.

"Oh, so Ron doesn't have even an hour to come to see what his 'best friend' is doing?" He knew it wasn't entirely Ron's fault for their friendship drifting but it made him feel good throwing his part of the blame on someone else shoulders.

His words made Hermione flinch.

"You know how Ron is. He still didn't completely forgive you for dumping Ginny." She was looking at Harry as if begging him to understand. "She's his sister, you know…"

"And I'm supposed to be his best friend."

Hermione sighed and made to grab his hand but he withdrawn it. The hurt was very clear in her face but it didn' t affect him anymore as once did.

"It's late. I'm sure that by now Ron is back. We don't want him to worry about you, do we?" Harry said, half mockingly.

For a second Hermione looked at him like she was seeing him for the first time, before she slowly rose from her chair and made her way towards the door. Harry couldn't bring himself to stop her. He just leaned back further in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Goodbye, Harry. When you feel like talking, you know where to find us."

Harry was sure that that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

xxx

After the little conversation with Hermione, Harry decided to spend some time in the drawing room. He was still angry, angry at Hermione for leaving him alone, angry at Ron for not talking to him anymore, angry at Kreacher because the elf stabbed him in the back and wasn't there and the house was in a big mess and finally angry at Voldemort because he was still alive. He stood there, just blankly staring at the Black family tree tapestry for perhaps ten minutes, there was so much in his mind that his brain decided to go blank.

Harry heard a pop in the room, which could only be created by Kreacher and he just turned his head around, his body still facing the tapestry. A few hours ago he would have shouted at the elf and maybe even hexed the hell out of him, but right now he just waited for him to make the first move.

Kreacher stood there in the middle of the room and was looking at Harry as if he was expecting to be cursed, which he totally deserved by all means.

"He's going to be here any minute." He said quietly, looking already ashamed of himself.

"About whom are you talking about?" asked Harry. He thought that the elf maybe wasn't aware the Harry already knew about Voldemort.

"The Dark Lord," said Kreacher. "Kreacher was informed that master Harry won't have anything against his visit. Is Kreacher right?"

The elf was looking at him with big eyes, praying him to agree with him and Harry felt a burning desire to see him on the floor twisting in pain, a little Crucio would have done the job. He forced himself to speak and to keep his wand in his pocket away from the palm of his hand.

"Yes, Kreacher is right and he should accompany The Dark Lord inside, shouldn't he?" Harry knew that it wasn't a good thing to have Voldemort in his house but it wasn't like he had anything to say in this. He was sure that Kreacher request had been just a facade. Plus, Harry wanted answers and Riddle had them.

Kreacher nodded his head and left the room without another word and returned before Harry had the time to mentally prepare himself. Behind him was Riddle, looking exactly like the last time Harry saw him in that dark hall. Tall, elegant and just as handsome as ever, not a single hair out of it's place.

As Riddle moved further into the room, Harry turned around, noticing that he wasn't paying any interest at the room he was in, as if he had already seen it. Maybe he did, some time ago, before it became The Order hiding place. Riddle's eyes were entirely on Harry and a small smirk touched his lips. The two of them were now face to face. Harry decided to break the ice.

"How come you're still alive?"

The Dark Lord just stared at him for a few seconds.

"Let's sit down first", Riddle said as he made a small gesture with his right hand pointing at the study table and two chairs appeared next to it out from nowhere. As he sat down, he saw that Harry still hadn't moved from his spot, so he added: "I'm not going to kill you, Potter. This matter is going to take a while so you can as well sit down." He tilted his head. "Or you can stand, your choice."

Harry decided he was beginning to make a fool of himself and sat down, his eyes not leaving Riddle's ones. He wasn't going to give Voldemort the pleasure of seeing him as one of his servants who would stand in front of him waiting for his orders.

"Before you begin to assault me with endless questions, let me ask you something myself. Do you know why you didn't die that Halloween night when I shot the killing curse at you?"

Harry stared at his impassive face and took a moment to reply to his out of the blue question. He didn't see the connection between the two subjects but he decided to answer anyway.

"Because of my mother's love."

Riddle snorted and Harry found himself surprised by how human it actually sounded.

"There is no such thing as love," he said and for the first time since he could remember, Harry didn't feel the need to argue with him, after all, as far as he knows, Riddle never felt love and never believed in it.

"Fine, you tell me then."

Harry waited as Riddle taped his long fingers on the table.

"Because of me."

Harry let out a humorless laugh; of course he would say it's him. After a few seconds he looked at Riddle expecting him to say something mocking, anything, but all he got was a hard stare.

"Are you mad? You've tried to kill me and now you say that you're the reason why I'm alive? You're crazy."

"If you could seal your elegant lips together I'd gladly explain little Potter." He made a pause and Harry kept his mouth shut. "Now, let me tell you a story. Many years ago, before you were born, The Dark Lord heard a prophecy. A prophecy about a little boy who would be his downfall. Along with the little content of the prophecy he received, The Dark Lord made a promise to one of his followers, a stupid promise if you asked me right now. He promised that he was going to let the child's mother live. At the time, The Dark Lord didn't know that it was more than a simple promise. His magic was so powerful that the promise became an unbreakable vow, without him taking notice. It may surprise you but The Dark Lord intended to keep his word. He told the women more than once to stand aside, to let him peacefully kill the baby but she refused. After he saw that his offer was harshly refused, he had to raise his wand and kill her, she was standing between him and his destiny. In that moment the vow was damaged so, in order to survive, The Dark Lord was supposed to spare the child's life, which as you well know, he didn't. When the killing curse touched the child, the unbreakable vow finally broke and The Dark Lord paid the price as the child continued to live on. Of course, Voldemort wasn't truly dead, having already made several horcruxes in order to live on. And that's the reason why I'm directly responsible for the fact that today, you're alive."

Harry just stared at him, too shocked to even speak. It was totally crazy, unbelievable –and Voldemort didn't even do it purposely so technically he didn't save Harry life- but at the same time it was the most logical and practical explication he ever heard in his life. Sure, Dumbledore told him it was love, but Harry never truly believed him, after all, how many mothers hadn't lost their lives to protect their children, just like his mother did, and none of their children lived to see the next day slowly raised his eyes from his lap and looked at Riddle. He was staring right back at Harry, looking calm and relaxed, waiting for him to say something.

"I… You…" Harry really didn't know what to say.

"Yes, us, how lovely that would be. Now, what about a thank you?" Riddle threw him off the ground and Harry just stared at him, the small curve of Riddle's lips told him it was a joke. Another thing he thought Voldemort wasn't capable of.

Riddle leaned in his seat, his eyes still on Harry's. "Returning to your previous question, as to the reason why I'm still alive, I think a cup of tea is going to refresh my memory." He arched an eyebrow " Don't you agree?"

Harry didn't agree at all. He just wished Riddle would vanish once again from this existence and leave him alone. Why couldn't Riddle just leave him alone?

Absently he called for Kreacher and ordered the tea, his mind wondering how the evening was going to end. He needed to stop himself several times because his mind was going too far away.


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as Kreacher left the room, Harry turned his attention back at Riddle who was looking very relaxed and calm drinking his tea. He noticed Harry's stare and slowly set down his teacup on the small table between them.

"I think you should start talking", said Harry gazing at him.

He saw Riddle pursing his lips but he got no other reaction from him.

"I made your games all this time and now it's your turn to tell me the truth. Just like you said." He gave Riddle a hard look. "I was living with the impression we had a deal. Was I wrong?"

Harry knew he was playing with fire by provoking him, but he didn't have any more patience to just sit there, waiting until Riddle decided to open his damned mouth. He raised his eyes to find Riddle smirking at him.

"Don't think I'm not aware of what you're doing here, Potter." He gave Harry a mocking stare. "You've chosen the wrong person to manipulate. As for the question you desperately want to know the answer to, I can't tell you because..." He saw Harry ready to argue with him but he continued to speak, ignoring the boy. "Because I simply don't have any idea."

For a long moment the room was completely silent and both of them could now hear the heavy rain from the outside hitting the windows. Harry took a deep breath before he finally decided to speak.

"Are you expecting me to believe that you don't know the reason of why you're still alive?" His words were dripping with sarcasm.

"Partially."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

Riddle shoot him a long look as he sat back further in his chair.

"It means that I know the actual reason but not the person who did it."

Harry just stared at him, noticing how Riddle was almost waiting for him to come to terms with the situation. It made him want to meet his expectations and that scared him.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand."

Riddle let out a long sigh as if the whole situation bored him. Harry wouldn't be surprised if it actually did.

"It means that in order for me to be brought back to life, a ritual was to be made, a ritual made by a living person. Was I clear enough for you?"

Harry chose to ignore the subtle insult.

"Are you saying that someone was stupid enough to bring you back to life?"

Riddle just glared at him and for a second Harry was sure he was going to be cursed but as Riddle didn't move he slowly relaxed in his seat.

"Yes Potter, that's exactly what I'm saying and before you ask, none of what was left of my followers did it."

"How you could possibly know that for sure?"

His enemy was looking more and more annoyed.

"Are you paying attention to what I'm saying at all?"

"Of course I do."

"I don't think you do because if that was true, you would know that I was also speaking about a certain object, without its presence the said ritual would have been pointless. An object of which my followers haven't heard in their life because I took notice about it just a few weeks ago."

Harry snorted.

"You can't fool me anymore, I know for sure that you don't have any more horcruxes."

Riddle tiled his head to the side and eyed Harry for a moment before a small mocking smile spread across his attractive face.

"You're right. At the moment my horcruxes were truly gone. Of course I can't say the same thing right now." He ignored the horrified look Harry gave him. "However I'm not talking about my horcruxes but about someone's else."

"Nobody else had horcruxes beside you", Harry bit out.

Riddle raised his elegant eyebrows.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I am."

A lightning furrowed the sky and a second later a loud thunder was heard. None of them even flinch. Riddle was the one who broke the silence.

"Well then, I'm afraid you're painfully wrong. That person is happening to be staying right in front of me in this moment."

Harry laughed.

"I'm so sorry but- did death affect your brain?" He let out another small laugh.

Riddle wasn't amused at all.

"Use that head of yours, Potter. In the night I killed your dear parents you were made into a horcrux by me even if I wasn't aware of it. Put in mind that I killed two persons before I came to you in a small amount of time, with a very unstable soul at that moment". He made a pause. "Now, let me tell you what you did in the battle of Hogwarts. You killed me even if it wasn't directly; you had the strong intention to do that. You killed someone with whom you had a very strong bond just an hour ago. You killed the person whom for a long time you've been carrying his soul. What do you think happened, having a great intention to kill me with a soul who still hadn't had the time to recover, like yours? At that moment, your soul recognized mine as the soul it carried since eighteen years ago and only lost it some time ago and so, in that moment you fired the Expelliarmus and backfired my own killing curse on me, you made me your horcrux. Your soul anchored my soul to itself".

Harry's eyes went wide and he felt himself going pale.

"You're lying, you're ly-"

"If you accuse me of lying one more time I'm going to cut your tongue. Do you understand?"

Riddle was serious and Harry's instinct of self-preservation told him to revise his vocabulary. They stared at each other for a very long time and Harry finally admitted that maybe Riddle was right. His situation was similar with Voldemort's one and just like him, he didn't know he made a horcrux.

Riddle took a sip from his teacup as Harry was coming to terms with the whole situation. It crossed his mind how weird this situation will have looked for somebody else. The Boy Who Lived and The Dark Lard enjoying a cup of tea without trying to kill each other. He felt a simile threatening to spread across his lips, but he controlled himself.

"Fine, let's say I admit you're right. You're my horcrux, but what is this object you keep talking about?"

His enemy looked pleased with Harry's behavior.

"The Elder Wand."

"I don't have it", said Harry immediately. "Not anymore."

"Yes Potter, I know and allow me to correct you. You don't have it now. But back then it was in your possession."

"The wand is in Dumbledore grave." He looked at Riddle who was already staring at him. "I put it there with my own hand."

"I'm glad we cooperate so well", replied Riddle. "I've already known that you put the wand in Dumbledore's grave, but I'm wondering if it's still there."

Harry slowly stand up from his chair as Riddle followed with his grey eyes Harry's every move. It made him feel self-conscious.

"Do you think someone stole it?"

"I'm not completely sure but I think it's a big possibility. If the wand isn't in the grave, then my theory is correct."

Riddle stood up, following Harry's previous movement. He closed the tiny distance between the two of them until Harry's started to feel uncomfortable.

"Now Potter, be a good boy and get your things. We have a little trip to make."


	4. Chapter 4

"Please tell me you're kidding," Harry said, shaking his head in disbelief, trying to make himself look comfortable with their close position. It wasn't exactly working and by Riddle smug smirk, he knew it too.

"And why would I do that?" said Riddle, walking forward a little more until Harry could feel his hot breath on his face. It reminded him of their previous encounter in that dark hall, and it made him even more anxious, if that was even possible.

"I-I, don't know…To mess with my head or whatever you do…" He was slightly shaking and Harry knew it wasn't from anger. He didn't dare to question himself why.

Riddle only smiled at his comment, surely finding Harry's stutter incredibly funny or maybe he was planning some kind of scheme like he usually did. It wouldn't surprise him at all.

"But tell me, Harry…what would be the fun in messing with something I've already played with before? That would be very boring, don't you agree?"

Riddle's grey eyes seemed to shine with some kind of emotions that Harry hadn't seen before, but it was gone before he could figure what it was.

He ignored the way his name rolled out of Riddle tongue and chose not to answer his previous question.

"Look…I don't care what reasons you have in your head but that's ridiculous. You can't just walk in Hogwarts in broad daylight! You just can't-." He was interrupted by his companion's calm voice.

"You are mistaken," replied Riddle. "And let me correct you. I can't just walk there, as you gracefully put the problem, but you, The Boy Who Lived, certainly are able to."

Harry raised his eyebrows at Riddle words.

"Fine. And I'm going to justify your presence by saying what? That me and The Dark Lord came to see Hogwarts to remember all the lovely moments we had together? I don't think so."

Riddle cast Harry a half mocking, half curious gaze, and didn't speak for a few moments.

"I'm seriously wondering what do they teach children at Hogwarts these days," Riddle mumbled more to himself than to Harry. "Why bother with magic, when they can't even use their heads?"

"Just cut this whole crap, because I'm not in the mood of your power-games. If you have a plan just spit it out," Harry suggested angrily.

They were both silent after this, just looking in each others eyes. Slowly, Riddle raised his right hand and gently gripped Harry's chin, bringing their faces closer. Harry couldn't help but wonder why the hell wasn't he doing something; push him away for example, instead of sitting there letting himself being pet.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Riddle's long finger on his lips silenced him and he couldn't help but think what else were his fingers capable of doing and he mentally slapped himself. Riddle's soft voice brought him back to reality.

"My dear boy, you know I'm not a very patient man by nature so from now on, do well and not test my power of will because, trust me, you won't like the consequences at all. If you continue to use that tongue of yours to scream at me, I'm going to make sure you won't have it anymore. I've warned you before didn't I? Next time I won't be as kind I am now, so try to learn from your mistakes, as we all do."

Riddle harsh words contradicted the gentleness of his grip, and for a moment Harry couldn't exactly place his words at the right spot in his mind. It just didn't seem to match. As if to spite Harry, Riddle tightened his grip, making the younger boy flinch in pain.

"And don't even for a second think that just because I don't look like Voldemort anymore, I'm not the same person as before. I'm the same man who killed your parents, friends and other people you don't even know, and don't ever forget that the only reason I didn't kill you in that dark hall is because our existences are so forcefully tied together despite our will. That's all so don't delude yourself with pitiful dreams of remorse or things like that. Am I clear enough?"

Harry forced himself to speak calmly despite his raising temper. He knew better than to provoke Riddle. Yes, he was brave but not as stupid as to deliberly cross him. He rather fancied his limbs and he would gladly keep them all where they were.

"Crystal."

Riddle hummed, seeming pleased with his answer. He unclenched his hand from Harry's chin and took a few steps back and Harry could finally breath properly. He noticed that his enemy eyes were still on him and decided to take his chance and talk.

"Please don't tell me 'my boy' anymore because-"

"Because Dumbledore used to name you this way? You don't say, I'm sure you were the only one."

Harry could almost taste the venom from his lips and it made him happy, in a strange way. That was the real Tom Riddle, the selfish manipulative bastard that was Voldemort.

It remind him that no matter how pleasant was his enemy apparence, his personality was exactly the same. That under all that dark beauty was a person who was so rotten to the core that all the beauty and charm in the world couldn't make him worthy of somebody else love or affection.

"Now regarding my presence there, we will say that I'm a close friend of yours from the Netherlands who would spend a few days at your place. As for the reason we're there, you'll invent a plausible one, I don't care what, but I want to check Dumbledore's grave. Do you understand?"

Harry knew it was a rhetorical question but he answered anyway.

"Yes, I do."

"Did I scare you?" Riddle asked in an amused tone, seeming to return to his previous behavior.

Harry didn't let himself be fooled this time and he remained silent.

"I don't care if you don't respond me, Harry. I already know the truth, so…why bother denying it?"

"I'm not denying anything," said Harry, glaring at Riddle impassive face.

"If you say so."

He surveyed Harry for a minute in complete silence in that special way of his, before he slowly extended his arm to him.

"Take my arm."

Harry only hesitated for a few seconds before obeying, already knowing what was going to happen. Riddle clasped his long fingers around his own firmly. A second after, he felt the ground below his foot spin and he close his eyes, letting Riddle guide him in the dark.

It was a very strange kind of feeling, but at that precise moment, Harry felt like he had just made the biggest mistake of his , he didn't give that thought much importance because he had been wrong before, hadn't he?


End file.
